Glitters in the Dark
by The Flippant Writer
Summary: The galaxy is an expansive and mysterious frontier, waiting to be claimed by those bold enough to reach for it. One must be careful not to reach further than they can handle.
1. Knee Jerk Reactions

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Glitters in the Dark

Chapter 1(?)

* * *

"I think we've lost them, sir," came the low, subservient voice of Pesk's sensor tech. It might have given him a slight sadistic thrill to hear it. However, given their circumstances, it only grated his already frayed nerves.

"You better be right about that, you guttersucker, or I'll take another eye from you," Pesk snarled. The sensor tech said nothing but lowered his head. The bright red patch over one of his superior eyes was visible from his angle. Lashing out at the bastard did nothing to make him feel better. He slammed a fist against the arm of his seat. Then twice more when he realized it felt good to hit something.

"Can someone explain to me what those two-eyed bootlickers were doing so far from their usual route?!" he shouted across the bridge. No one spoke, likely because they were all as confused as he was. It didn't make sense. The turians never patrolled that deep in the Attican Traverse. It was too close to the Terminus; too far from support. But for one reason or another he had been jumped by a Hierarchy patrol. A task force of the most advanced warships in the galaxy against three obsolete junker ships? They were outmatched from the start.

One of his ships was destroyed outright in the initial salvo, the other had been disabled and taken by a boarding party. His ship had just managed to escape, but not without taking a beating. Two of his three batteries were offline. An entire section opened to the vacuum. Over a dozen of the pirates on his ship were dead. Engine Two was sputtering. His quarian slave had said it was a miracle they were even moving. It had taken nearly everything he had to not open a hole in its faceplate. Now they were in the ass end of unexplored space after a few random jumps to try and escape the damn fascists.

Few pirates became successful enough to have multiple ships under their command. Pesk had stole and cheated and killed at every turn to get even the small band he commanded. Now it was gone. It was all GONE!

The grizzled pirate veteran gritted his teeth and smothered a scream of rage until it came out as a low growl. "What's our fuel at?"

Another pirate spoke up, "We're at 34 percent. It's a little tight, but the astronav system says we can just make it back to Jaris for resupply."

Jaris. A pirate haven. It was probably their best bet for recovering from this massive clusterfuck. Their only bet, apparently. However he had made a lot of enemies there, as was common when one had ambitions in free space. The only thing that had kept them at bay before was his sizable force of pirates. They would pounce on him the very moment they saw the sad state he was now in.

He needed to come back with something. Anything to even the odds.

"Sir, I'm getting a signal two light seconds out."

A lead weight formed in Pesk's stomach. "Turians?!"

"N-No, sir. It's in the opposite direction. And it doesn't have the usual Hierarchy IFF."

He tried not to let the relief show too visibly. "Then who the hell is it?"

"I...I don't know, sir. It doesn't match anything in our database. It doesn't even have an unregistered tag."

"No tag? What kind of pre-Council scrapheap are they fly-," he cut himself off. They were far off the beaten path, even for free space. What would anyone be doing this far out? Referring to grossly obsolete tech as 'pre-Council' was a popular turn of phrase, but Pesk suddenly had an inkling it may be more than just a metaphor in this case.

The pieces slowly clicking together in Pesk's mind. Unknown ships deep in the ass end of nowhere without so much as a blank tag? There was no possible way he could be so lucky. But if it was true...if he had truly found some uncontacted primitives?

Credit signs began to flash in his mind's eye. A new ship. A better one. No, his own small fleet! New crew members, kitted out with the best gear credits could buy! No, what was he even thinking? He could leave piracy behind! A villa for himself on Erszbat! Beautiful asari Maidens to cater to his every desire! He would be placed in the higher castes and have every guttersucker who dared tilt their head right grovelling at his feet! It was all possible if he brought a brand new race to the Hegemony slave economy.

Pesk was on his feet before he even fully realized it.

"Tell everyone who can hold a gun to gear up. Close in on that signal."

* * *

Zayzlim was a simple unggoy. After the war had ended, he returned to Balaho along with many of his brethren to try and restore their ravaged homeworld. Being in the Covenant had shown him how much a people could achieve. Even the humans, the primitives that they were, had amazing cities that Zayzlim always admired before they razed them to the ground. He wanted the same thing for Balaho. The unggoy had gone through much suffering. Now it was time to rebuild.

Now here he was, mining asteroids for raw material that his world now lacked. The green excavation beam cut through ores and the retrieval claw brought the chunks into cargo hold. It was a simple existence but it was one that he cherished.

Distressed grunting caught Zayzlim's attention. The sensor officer was getting agitated.

"Bad signal!" he squeaked. "Bad signal! Very close!"

Zayzlim turned off the beam and waddled over to the holoscreen. An unknown signal was lit brightly, and it was definitely very close. Unknown was bad. Unknown was never good for the unggoy. What concerned him was how it came so close. Nothing could have come this close without warning. It was as though it had appeared out of nowhere, and it was coming closer.

His hackles rose. His instincts, instincts that he thought he had left back in the Schism, rose to the forefront. They were telling him this was very, very bad. They were saying that he needed to fight.

"Maybe kig-yar," he said. "Kig-yar always steal from ships. Kig-yar no like unggoy. Maybe they come to steal from us."

He was a simple unggoy. He knew there wasn't enough time to reorient the ship to aim the excavator at them. And if they hadn't shot at them, that meant they wanted something from them. Others always wanted something from the unggoy. He only wished to rebuild his home. However the galaxy was a bad and scary place. So Zayzlim waddled over to the weapons rack and picked up the same type of plasma pistol he had used for years. The low whine as it activated was a simple comfort. The echoing whines of his brothers' pistols was an even greater one.

They seamlessly formed into squads and took up defensive positions. There was no confusion and only some minor fearful chuffing. Centuries of war had been bred into their bones. The galaxy had turned the unggoy into warriors.

And Zayzlim was a simple unggoy. He would fight, and then he would return to mining.

* * *

The primitive ship hadn't reacted to their approach. Likely they were in awe of the aliens hovering beside them. Probably throwing bones and sticks on the ground to decide how to greet the divine visitors. Gharek allowed himself a quiet chuckle that was swallowed by the roaring of the thermal cutter. Their faces when they realized the aliens were there to enslave them would be hilarious. If they had emotive faces at least. Regardless he would be recording the boarding. Some people paid a pretty penny for combat vids. A combat vid featuring First Contact would be paying for his Khar'shan ale for a good while.

"Three minutes to breach!" their 'engineer' called out. In reality he was just the only guy who knew how operate the thermal cutter without burning his own face off. The heavy piece of equipment could carve out an airlock door in two minutes, easy. Which was why he didn't understand why they had been standing there for five minutes now.

"What the hell's taking so long?!" Gharek shouted over the noise.

"This armor is denser than a krogan's skull! I've gotta go slow or the cutter won't penetrate through!"

Gharek just grunted to himself. Denser armor was something defense contractors might be interested in. He had no clue how to market that kinda stuff so hopefully Pesk would catch on.

"Alright, here we go!"

The roar of the cutter suddenly cut out and everyone shouldered their weapons. Gharek gave his team one last glance before priming a flashbang. "Knock it down."

The engineer reared back the heavy equipment and slammed it into the door like a battering ram. The moment the door tilted forward and presented a space, Gharek flung the grenade into the area beyond. Every pirate turned away with their eyes shut. The explosion of the flashbang mixed with the crash of the door to create a horrific din. They didn't waste a second, however. They immediately filed into the halls of the ship with their rifles and shotguns raised.

The lack of resistance at their point of entry was a good sign. The primitives may be pacifists. Their weapons and tactics were likely underdeveloped, if present at all. As he rounded a corner he saw a green glow at the end of the hallway. He immediately threw himself back into cover. There was a tense moment where he waited for the gunfire to begin. When nothing happened he peaked around the corner to see the same green glow hovering in the room further beyond. He was also able to make out the the alien cowering behind said glow.

It was a squat, pyjak-looking thing; maybe a little over a meter tall at most. It had some sort of harness with a container on its back leading to a mask over its mouth. It looked like a savage little volus wannabe. It definitely had all the courage of one. It simply hiding behind its weird flashlight, staring intently at him like a doren in headlights.

He looked over to his trapper across the hall, a scarred batarian with slave prod set to maximum. "There's a little stone-kicker in the room down there. No weapon, just a glowlamp."

The trapper smirked and the prod violently cracked as he discharged it. He turned the corner and starting jogging towards his target but was stopped cold by a bright green bolt. His kinetic barrier shattered instantly. The trapper barely had a moment to look towards him in confusion before two smaller green bolts took him in the face and he crumpled to the ground, now faceless.

Gharek struggled to understand what he just saw. That wasn't a mass driver. It was energy. Pure energy. These little shits had individual DEWs! He immediately spoke into the comm. "Heads up, guys, these primitives have handheld DEWs! Swipe them up if you get a chance!" He then turned towards the next pirate after the trapper. "I'm gonna throw a flasher and we're gonna put it down."

He didn't even wait for the affirmative before he flung a flashbang down the hallway. The moment it went off both he and the guy he spoke to rounded the corner with their rifles are the ready. The alien was stumbling backwards with its oversized hands over its eyes. Gharek didn't hesitate. Grain-sized projectiles perforated the alien and it dropped dead almost immediately. A puddle of blue blood quickly formed beneath it.

Gharek and his partner swept into the small room and ensured there were no more threats. The alien had been huddled in some sort of utility room, filled with both strange and familiar tools.

"All's clear," his partner grunted. Gharek lowered his rifle and turned around to look at the corpse. It was even more hideous up close. Its hands and feet were disproportionately large for its body. A strange pistol rested in its loose grip, glowing dimly from the lights set into its chassis. He didn't waste any time scooping it up and looking over it like a new toy. It even looked like one. It was such a jarring difference in design philosophy that he had a hard time internalizing it as a weapon.

"That the DEW?"

Gharek nodded while adjusting his grip. "Looks like it. Only one way to see."

He aimed the pistol at the alien's corpse and squeezed the trigger. The pistol jumped and a green bolt flew out, blasting a hole in its skull. Gharek couldn't suppress the excited grin that spread across his face. The turians would probably sell an entire dreadnought to get a functioning plasma weapon and he got one for free in the middle of fucking nowhere!

His comm suddenly came to life. _"__Everyone get their ass to the bridge! The primitives have holed themselves up here and they're lobbing plasma at us like its fucking candy!"_

Gharek shifted his rifle into compact mode and hooked it on his rear belt in order to brace the pistol in both of his hands. "Let's go get our payday."

* * *

These were not kig-yar, Zayzlim quickly realized. They almost looked like humans but they had too many eyes. They certainly acted like their bird-like nemeses. Nasty, mean things that ran in and killed every unggoy that resisted. They would zap a few of them with some sort of the rod when they had the chance and drag them off somewhere. Probably enslaving them for free labor or cannon fodder. Such was the unggoy's use to everyone. No one saw them as equals, save maybe the sangheili. Even that was something that they had to fight for.

Zayzlim fired off another trio of plasma bolts which burned through his unshielded target. The four-eye barely had time to gurgle before he dropped dead. He then hopped back into cover to avoid the return fire.

They had ambushed the four-eyes at a junction. After the initial surprise, they had quickly pushed Zayzlim and his brethren back to the bridge. Unggoy were warriors, but they were not on the level of sangheili or jiralhanae. However he took pride in the fact that only two of his compatriots had tried to flee and were gunned down in the confines of the ship.

The fact remained that they were fighting a losing battle.

"Zayzlim," squeaked his friend Hap-Fif over the firefight. "Four-eyes winning! Big Chief needs to know! Send message! We send message!"

He nodded in response. "Give cover! I send message!"

Hap-Fif hesitated before nodding. They both knew it may be a suicide mission. He had to run into the open to send the message. He may very well get gunned down before making it to the console. Fear blossomed into his chest and he just barely managed to suppress the frightened grunting that would've followed.

"Zayzlim send message!" Hap-Fif called out to their surviving compatriots. "We cover! We protect Balaho!"

That seemed to embolden them and they doubled down on their shooting. Hap-Fif joined in shouting, "Go now!"

The increased rate of plasma on their end resulted in a sharp increase of the incoming fire. Zayzlim mag-clipped his plasma pistol and quickly bounded towards the communication console. His hand slapped on the video recorder button and he barked out a simple message.

"New bad-bad here! Four eyes kill and take unggoy! Protect Balaho!"

The sound of plasma began to sharply decrease behind him and he heard booted feet storming towards him as he sent the message. He turned in time to have a crackling rod jabbed into his neck. Agony lanced through his entire body for what felt like an eternity. The last thing he thought of before darkness took him was his mate down on his homeworld and their two pups.

* * *

Today had quickly turned from the worst day of Pesk's life to the best. Primitives enslaved to their betters and ready to be sold to unbelievably rich batarians who would all clamor for the prestige of having an entirely new race of slaves. The corpses of those who resisted could be sold to black market organ harvesters and Terminus scientists. But the true treasure lay in the hoard of plasma weapons they had collected. He kept one for himself of course and he allowed Gharek to keep one as a bonus to his cut - and to keep the pirate from using it on him. The rest would fetch a fortune per gun.

The potential buyers were limitless. Players with far more wealth and influence than mere mercenary groups or pirate lords. Aria, the Shadow Broker, the Hegemony, and any one of those three governments seated in their ivory tower on the Citadel. He could already imagine the bidding war that would leave his entire lineage set for life. There was no possible way this could get better.

"Captain, I've got something for you."

Pesk was in such a euphoric state that he couldn't even bring himself to be angry at his daydreams being interrupted. "What is it?" he asked disinterestedly.

"I think these primitives have a colonized planet in this system."

Pesk jerked upright in shock. "What?!"

The comms worker tapped his console. "I'm picking up some ambient communication signals in this system. Way more than just a mining op. Can't decipher it for shit but it looks like its coming from the fifth planet from the star."

He felt like he could kiss the turians who had forced him to come here. He was done with piracy once he sold his stock but the Hegemony would open up the national wallet to get coordinates to an entire colony of primitives. An entire race enslaved to the will of the Hegemony was the stuff that many Chairmen had dreamed of accomplishing.

"Mark these coordinates. We're gonna squeeze this goldmine for every last credit. We're all gonna be filthy fucking rich!"

The entire bridge cheered, unaware of the Pandora's Box they had just opened.

* * *

**A/N:**** Just something I wrote to help break out of writer's block. I'll probably continue at some point but no guarantees as this is kinda low priority for me.**


	2. Conquerors from Beyond

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Glitters in the Dark

Chapter 2

* * *

The galaxy was an unrelenting frontier, Thel 'Vadam pondered as he looked over the urgent missive he had received. It had come from their diminutive, once comrades-in-arms. The message contained a video attachment from the unfortunate unggoy who had befallen a potentially dark fate. He tapped the play button once again.

_"New bad-bad here! Four eyes kill and take unggoy! Protect Balaho!"_

As the unggoy reached for the button, the aforementioned 'four-eyes' came storming into view behind him. He paused it and zoomed in on the image of the alien. It was a brutal-looking creature with hard ridges lining its face.

Thel saved the image and read over the message he received from Big Chief Wipik, de facto leader of the unggoy on Balaho. It was an urgent plea for reinforcements against what may be a hostile incursion.

"We owe much to the unggoy, Arbiter," spoke a deep voice aside from him.

The leader of the Swords of Sanghelios looked away from the hologram emanating from his seat and met the eyes of his friend and confidant Rtas 'Vadum. The years were starting weigh on his shoulders, yet he still stood strong and confident. Neither the war against the humans nor the Great Schism nor the horrors of the Flood could bring him low. Thel suspected he could even withstand a point blank Halo activation and come out with little more than scuffs on his armor.

It was that solid reliability that had led Thel to depend on him. His words were worth a thousand swords.

"We do," the Arbiter agreed. "However we remain in a tenuous position. The remnants of the Covenant are shattered but still remain a thorn in our side. Atriox and his band of pillagers sail the stars seeking blood. Our alliance with the humans is still brittle and may yet shatter one day. Our fleets and warriors are stretched thin and engaging in war against another empire may see everything we've built crumble beneath us."

"And yet you will still do it," Rtas responded with the simple confidence of a longtime compatriot.

His mandibles twitched in amusement. Rtas was right. The unggoy that returned to Balaho had all taken up arms against the Loyalists during the Schism. Those that had acted against them were exiled or ruthlessly purged from their homeworld. They had suffered much under the oppressive regime of Covenant. To his shame, it was a status quo that had been mercilessly enforced by his own people. That they would still choose to fight alongside the sangheili humbled him immensely.

"There is a flotilla I can spare immediately," Rtas continued. "The battlecruiser _Fire of_ _Repentance_, three destroyers and two heavy corvettes. They are freshly built and only experienced in small skirmishes against Loyalists. This will be a good test of their skills and their spirit."

The Arbiter rumbled deep from within his chest. "Very well. Inform them they are to resupply and depart for Balaho immediately. The Shipmaster of _Fire of Repentance_ will assume command of sangheili assets for this mission but they will defer to the unggoy's leader for ground support. Make that abundantly clear."

Rtas held a fist over his chest. "By your will, Arbiter."

They both took some amusement from his ironic intonation.

* * *

Few images evoked more awe and primal fear than an entire warfleet jumping out from FTL. It was an aggressive statement to anyone watching that the person in charge would not take 'no' for an answer. It was exactly the sort of statement Admiral Dhekon Koskedah intended to make. Standing on the bridge of his dreadnought, _Unrepentant Conqueror_, he was ready to make history.

The political maneuvering and literal backstabbings that had taken place for him to be given command of this historic mission would be remembered for years to come. He had even burned an absurdly rare favor from the SIU. The chances of ever weaseling another one from the elite organization were next to none but it was worth it.

The Hegemony's orders were abundantly clear. Destroy every last scrap of military capability, decapitate the government, and subjugate the locals before the Council could catch wind of it. To that end, he had been granted command of two more _Pillar-_class dreadnoughts to fight alongside the rest of his ships in the Second Fleet. It was a sign of how much this meant to the Executive Board. It was also a rope that could easily hang him should he bungle this.

Not that he would, of course. It was a horde of uncontacted primitives, ones that hadn't even discovered Element Zero yet. Plasma weapons or not, no one could endure interstellar warfare without Eezo-driven ships. Once he slammed his boots one their grimy little throats and chained them up, he would return to the Hegemony as a national hero. This kind of achievement would set him up for a seat on the Board.

"Admiral Koskedah, permission to speak."

"Speak."

"VIs have determined the homeworld's location. Putting it on the tactical display now."

Batarian ships didn't have the fancy holo-displays that the Council tryhards had. Rather it had a solid table display with 3D depth. A representation of the system with estimated orbits showed up. Icons representing suspected ships and installations near their target also appeared, although the image was hours old given the distances involved. The recognition VIs also identified multiple alien settlements across the planet's surface. There was one that was significantly larger than the rest. It had to be the alien capital.

Dhekon took a moment to glance over the meager off-world presence. Whatever they did to make plasma weapons had to be something unique to their planet because everything else about their 'civilization' was hilariously underdeveloped. If the only way to develop plasma weapons was indeed on this planet then the Hegemony would quickly rise to dominance in the galaxy.

Thoughts of galactic conquest had to be put aside for the time being, however.

"All ships are to assume Bulwark Formation and jump to three light seconds out from the the target planet. You are to target any and all off-world installations and ships in your engagement envelopes and await my command to fire. No quarter is to be given. For the Hegemony!"

The crew roared with acceptable zeal. The icons representing his ships began moving, a wedged wall of cruisers and frigates began to form in front of his dreadnoughts and destroyer escorts. This was to be the start of the Hegemony's rise and he would be at the top reaping the rewards.

* * *

The town of Pagasa was quiet. It was a stark difference to the usual hustle and hustle of Balaho's new capital. Unggoy families had been rushed into the underground shelters while the warriors huddled into defensive positions. Ghosts glided out of garages and Goblins marched out to reinforce key chokepoints. Seeing his people mobilized for war both emboldened and saddened Big Chief Wipik. The hard times were supposed to be behind them. They thought they were going to be able to rebuild their society and rediscover their culture. It was clear that the fate of the unggoy was to fight for their own survival every step of the way.

"Big Chief! Big Chief!"

Wipik had to fully to see the unggoy bounding towards him from his blind side. Despite regularly lamenting his impaired sight, he scar that stretched down it was a mark of honor for him. "Demonward" they called him, for he was one of the few, if not the only one of their kind to survive an encounter with a Demon.

"Big Chief! Bad-bads here! Come in fast!"

Anxiousness weighed heavy in his chest. This was his responsibility however. He spoke, his voice surprisingly guttural and commanding.

"Activate defenses. We make four-eyes regret coming here."

The order was quickly passed down and a rumbling echoed through the air. In the center of the city, a massive, beetle-like dome began to unfold.

* * *

The Second Fleet warped in mostly in position. Dhekon tagged those who had drifted for disciplinary actions after the battle. Everything had to be perfect for his crowning achievement and those idiots were making his job harder. Now he would have to assign someone to alter the records later to show that his Fleet jumped out in perfect formation.

Every ship transmitted a confirmation of target locks. Dhekon double checked the hover-cam was centered on him before puffing his chest out and giving the command that would change everything.

"All ships, open fire!"

Overkill was an understatement. The small orbital facilities were turned to scrap and the few ships that tried to escape were shredded. Several dozen shots impacted the planet below. He was very careful not to allow a dreadnought slug to hit the planet. That could damage too much of the merchandise.

"All ships hold fire and prepare for inva-"

"A-Admiral!"

Fury flooded his chest at the interruption. He snarled at the impudent officer and bit out a terse, "What?!"

The officer in question seemed all too aware of the massive fuck-up he made interrupting someone well above his station but he powered forward. "There was an energy discharge from the planet! Cruisers _Furious_ and _Shield of the Castes_ are destroyed, sir!"

Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn't one of them. "Wha-What?! What in damnation do you me-?!"

"Cruiser _Throatcutter_ and three frigates are destroyed!"

"So help me, you damn guttersucker tell me what's going on!"

"There's an anti-orbital gun planetside, Admiral! It's- cruisers _Shackle Welder _and- "

"**Shut up!** Fire on that damned gun before I throw you the lot of you into the slave pens with the rest of these mud-squatters!"

As his orders were passed down, he turned to look at the tactical display which had transitioned to one of his vessel's high-definition cameras. It was zoomed into a massive structure that had an equally huge gun jutting out of its center. The gun was situated in the center of the largest settlement. His stomach dropped as he realized he may have just ordered the destruction of tens of billions of credits worth of flesh. However, as he watched the two prongs of the barrel discharge another beam and slag another three of his ships, he quickly came to the conclusion that the damage to Hegemony slaves was far less damning than damage to Hegemony ships.

Three cruisers reoriented themselves towards the battery. The massive energy spike it emitted every time it fired made it an obvious target. All three vessels coordinated their fire to impact one after the other and let them loose. The high speed slugs raced down through the atmospheres and slammed onto the location without mercy. They received superheated plasma in return.

Dhekon gritted his teeth and he felt his blood pressure skyrocket. "What in the Pillars' names were those morons aiming at!"

"They struck on target, sir! It's shielded!"

The Admiral was apoplectic. His visions of glorious, uncontested conquest was ruined with the destruction of several expensive ships. He would not tolerate this level of resistance from insect-eating primitives!

"Let's see how well their shields hold up against a dreadnought."

As furious as he was, he wasn't stupid enough to use his own dreadnought to conduct an orbital bombardment. That could too easily be used against him in the political arena. If the Council caught wind of it the Hegemony wouldn't hesitate to string him up to save their own asses. Ordering another dreadnought to do it and altering the records would give him a comfortable degree of plausible deniability though. He opened a private transmission to the dreadnought _Glory of Khar'shan_.

"Captain Egamo, you're authorized to fire on the orbital gun! Turn that blasted thing into a crater!"

There was a moment of hesitation. Clearly the good Captain realized he was being set-up but he didn't have any other choice.

_"Orders confirmed. Orienting my vessel for orbital bombardment."_

The 1.1 kilometer long ship shifted its aimed and opened with both of its main guns, one after the other. He watched the display in anticipation as the slugs slammed into the target, throwing up dirt kilometers around it. He waited a second for another shot to come through before he finally relaxed.

"Get our troops planetside and put these vermin in their pla-"

A thick blue beam cut through the haze of dust suddenly. He barely had time to flinch before a shrill beeping emanated from his command seat. The sound caught him further off guard. It was vaguely familiar but he had couldn't recall where he had heard it.

"A-Admiral...the _Glory of Khar'shan_...it...it's gone...that gun...it cut right through its barriers..."

He felt the blood leave his face as he finally realized what the sound was. He had only ever heard it in training. It was a "Dreadnought Down" alert.

Losing a dreadnought was a punishable offense even in an actual war. The Executive Board would strip him of everything and throw him down into the slave caste. Everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed would all be for nothing. He couldn't allow that to happen.

When Dhekon had arrived in-system, he had done so as a politician. He slammed the door on that persona and went back to the one that had given him his rank in the first place.

"All ships, take evasive action and reform out of the projected threat envelope. I'm sending coordinates for our rally point."

The batarian ships immediately scattered into random escape vectors. His flagship's inertial compensators strained as the helmsman brought it into a steep, diagonal 'dive'. The sudden flurry of movement threw off the hostile gun's aim and the next shot flew wide of its target. Each of his ships micro-jumped out of danger, quickly followed by his own. His surviving ships all reported in and confirmed movement towards the rally point.

Dhekon perused his list of surviving ships with an experienced eye and began rapidly planning formulating a new plan. He opened a private comm with General Dranith Bas'narah who had taken up residence on his other remaining dreadnought, _Indomitable Spear_.

"Yes, Admiral?" the General asked in her usual sardonic drawl.

"The situation has changed, General. The primitives have a decidedly _non-_primitive gun groundside that have been picking off my ships with impunity."

Dranith's lips twitched upwards. It infuriated him but she was in the same caste so she could treat him as an equal without worry.

"Oh? Are your mighty ships having trouble crushing a single gun that doesn't move?"

Dhekon's lips tightened. The privacy field around his command throne ensured no one else would hear but to be mocked in public like this was almost too much. Regardless, he powered forward, "I need you to fly in your SIU detachment to disable the shields on the gun so we can finally knock it out."

"And am I to understand you will give me a chance to pull my troops out _before_ you lob rocks at it?"

"Of course."

"Not good enough," she shot back immediately. "I'm not going to lose valuable SIU operatives just so you can lump me in with your screw up."

A snarl slipped across his face. He didn't have the patience to play games but he needed to act fast to save his skin. "Fine," he bit out. He closed his eyes and slowly ran two fingers down them. "I swear upon all that I am and all that I own that I will wait for your troops to leave the impact zone before firing on the gun."

Dranith nodded sharply, "Excellent. I'll inform them of their mission. You'll need to get them close to the planet but they can take care of the rest from there. Make sure they have escorts because those mudsquatters probably have anti-air as well."

"You'll get your escorts. I need them on the ground alive."

The general nodded once more. "For the Hegemony."

"For the Hegemony," Dhekon responded before the connection was cut.

There was no way he was going to come out of this situation without consequences. He would be stripped of his admiralty and ran through the courts. This was now about survival. He needed something from this mission that would prevent him from going down more than two or three castes. It had to be something more than what they came here for. He could probably tighten engagement rules to ensure more slaves would be recovered but that wouldn't be enough.

Something suddenly clicked in his mind. His gaze drifted over the still image of the massive plasma gun. It was obviously the pinnacle of their weapons technology. A terrifyingly powerful weapon that could cut through a dreadnought in a single shot. A network of them could make any planet virtually unassailable. His eyes then flicked over to the minutiae regarding the actual gun and settled on the length estimate of the barrel.

It was roughly the right size to mount on a dreadnought.

Now that he thought about it, maybe the gun didn't need to be destroyed. He quickly opened another comm-line with the General.

* * *

"Four-eyes retreat!" squeaked the sensor officer.

Wipik nodded sharply and spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear him. "Four-eyes learn hard lesson today. Unggoy not weak. Unggoy strong!"

The room was filled with high-pitched cheers. His people needed this victory. The sangheili would receive his undying gratitude for helping them construct the Type-62 Anti-Orbital Gun. They would have been overwhelmed immediately without its powerful gun and citadel-class shields. Wipik only regretted that the platform was so resource-draining to build and maintain. He would have loved to have an entire array. He turned toward one of his trusted subordinates.

"Make sure no warriors sleepy-sleep at gun. Four-eyes know gun is big problem. They go for it next. We lose gun, we lose Balaho."

His subordinate nodded excitedly and hobbled away to communicate with his troops. Wipik turned back to the holo-display, double-checking all of his AA guns were still operational and all avenues of approach were entrenched. He was no sangheili but he had picked up a few things about tactics and strategies. He only hoped it would be enough.

* * *

_Citadel Codex_

_Pillar-Class Dreadnought_

_The batarian Pillar-class dreadnought is seen by many as a crystallization of the Hegemony mindset. Whereas the other military powers of the galactic community elect to mount a single main gun and a full complement of smaller ship-to-ship batteries, Batarian State Arms has instead designed and manufactured one that mounts two powerful main guns. The sheer amount of destructive potential a Pillar-class dreadnought contains makes even the normally unflappable turians think twice about facing one head-on._

_Though this design gives off the appearance of total space superiority, it comes with a number of drawbacks. The amount of eezo and power needed to fire both main guns while still allowing the ship full maneuverability and barrier protection practically neuters its ability to mount broadside batteries, leaving it with only enough to ward off the stray cruiser. Its point defenses have also been significantly scaled back, leaving it vulnerable to massed disruptor torpedos. Additionally, the vessel requires more heat sinks to keep the guns from burning out in prolonged combat. This contributes to its significantly larger mass which presents a greater target to hostile fire. Many military academics agree that the amount of drawbacks present in the design makes the vessel an arguably inferior design._

_Be that as it may, they all agree that in a one-on-one ranged battle no other dreadnought design could withstand a sustained barrage from the Pillar-class long enough to even break its kinetic barriers. In addition, the Hegemony is fully aware of the dreadnought's vulnerabilities and never allows one to go anywhere without a full escort of destroyers._


	3. Chastened Interlopers

x

Glitters in the Dark

Chapter 3

* * *

"Alright, men, quick summary of the brief," Lieutenant Iraprak shouted over the din of atmospheric entry. Before him, his entire platoon sat strapped into the seats of their heavy duty dropship. "The primitives have a big fuck-off gun on the ground that's spanking our fleet. So they need us groundside to slap them back into their mud huts and lay the red carpet out for SIU! The atmosphere is inhospitable to us so keep your helmets on and suit sealed! Any questions?"

"Yes, sir! What's the barrier bet this time?!" shouted one of his soldiers.

Iraprak grinned. "The first dumb bastard whose barrier breaks is buying the platoon a round when we get back home _and_ will be on extra duty for a month!"

A chorus of groans and cheers filled the bay. They all fell into their usual ribbing and bullshitting while they awaited landfall. He'd let them go at it for a few more minutes.

His battalion was going to be in charge of knocking out anti-air while the fleet sent in more waves. The cannon had ruined the initial plan of dropping the entire 8th Khar'shan External Division at once. Instead, the fleet was microjumping several cruisers in scattered positions to release as many shuttles and gunships as they could before microjumping out. They would also seed expendable comm buoys to ensure communications were at least somewhat timely. The units would be dropped off at the outskirts of the city and were responsible for clearing a path for SIU operatives to infiltrate and disable the gun. From there the rest of the division could land.

The pilot's voice suddenly came over the speakers. _"Brace yourselves!"_

The ship suddenly jerked off to the side, jostling everyone hard. He could just make out the sound of ordnance swinging close by and dull thuds as ships were shot out of the sky. His omnitool chirped after one particular thud, informing him that command of the company was transferred to him. Shame, the Captain was a good enough guy. However he definitely wouldn't turn down the sudden promotion.

_"5 minutes to landing!"_

Iraprak and his platoon all released the atmospheric reentry braces, leaving them strapped in with just the normal belts. "Mantises will be strafing LZs but they may still be hot, men! The moment that door opens you kill anything that's got less than two eyes, you get me?!"

"Yes, sir!"

The shuttle leveled out suddenly and they all jerked towards the front of the craft as it braked hard. The green light above the hatch turned red and the pilot spoke once more.

_"Opening doors!"_

They all released their belts as one and stood up. The hatch dropped rapidly and they ran out with their weapons at the high ready. The plaza they landed in was torn up by the initial strafing runs that cleared out the hostile positions. Dozens of alien bodies littered the ground, many of them in pieces. Their barricades and weapon emplacements were shattered by the high caliber mass accelerator fire. The burning wrecks of three Mantis gunships were also visible further on. In the center of the clearing was a damaged pedestal that projected a flickering hologram of one of the aliens with its fist thrust up to the sky.

His troopers quickly spread out into a security perimeter as the shuttle lifted back up and flew away to hang out in no-man's land far outside the city. A few men threw open sizable boxes that contained their heavy weapons and mobile barricades. Another drop ship came in shortly afterwards and disgorged more troopers. A quick glance at his omnitool told him that First Platoon's shuttle was still active and en route.

The relative ease in which they were able to set up a perimeter bothered him. His adrenaline was still pumping, him having expected to take fire immediately upon landing. There was no way the Mantises didn't miss even a single alien. The plaza was surrounded by purple, iridescent, organic looking structures that were bereft of life. As he checked to make sure everything was going according to plan, Lieutenant Dhalea from Second Platoon jogged towards him.

"I got the notification that you're in charge of our sorry asses now...sir."

"Looks like it, Dhalea. Any casualties on the way in?"

She shook her head. "One of the pyjaks vomited in his helmet on reentry but we're all up and filling in the perimeter. Some of my men found alien weapons. If they still work we can use them against them."

Iraprak briefly considered her suggestion before shaking his head. "Negative. Command wants every last scrap of useful tech from this rock and I'd rather not be the one to explain why we're only turning in broken and burned out shit. Gather it all in one spot."

"Understood. Anything else?"

He was quiet for a moment before saying, "This is too easy."

"Sir?"

"We haven't taken a shot since our boots hit the ground. I don't know about you but I would have troopers all around this park lighting up anything that moved. They're planning something."

Dhalea was quiet for a moment.

"Or they're just scared, sir. We jumped in with an entire fleet of warships packed to the brim with soldiers. They've probably just begun exploring their own solar system. Just because they have powerful weapons doesn't mean they have the will to fight against something this far beyond them."

He rubbed the chin of his helmet as he considered that. Objectively it made some sense but it still didn't feel right somehow. He nodded regardless and dismissed her. She was probably right. Sometimes things were just that simple especially when facing an inferior foe. No matter how much he tried to internalize that though, something still unsettled him.

His comm-bead clicked suddenly. _"This is Lieutenant Regar from First Platoon. We had to divert to avoid getting shot down but we're closing in now. ETA two minutes."_

That was it then. They had their beachhead. Once everyone was accounted for they would leave a platoon here to hold the LZ and the rest of them would push towards the gun. He tried to feel some sense of satisfaction at having achieved a normally difficult type of mission but his instincts were still screaming at him that something was off.

The roar of thrusters grew steadily louder as the ship containing the last of their company flew in. As it began to descend and brake hard to make the landing, two large green bolts flew from the rooftops and slammed into it. The kinetic barrier on the larger shuttle held strong but the impacts violently arrested its momentum.

Iraprak grunted as he was suddenly tackled to the ground in time to avoid a hail of plasma.

"CONTACT!"

"THEY'RE IN THE BUILDINGS!"

"MAN DOWN! SOMEONE GET THAT GUN BACK UP!"

Iraprak looked up to see plasma raining down from the buildings surrounding the park. His soldiers were returning with accurate bursts of fire whenever they could afford to stick their heads out. Their Mauler support guns were tearing up the buildings and attracting hostile fire in return.

His gaze moved over to the shuttle in time to see another four of those green rounds hit it while it was trying to escape. The barrier couldn't hold against another barrage and shattered in time to get hit with the last two bolts. The wing-mounted thruster on the right exploded and the ship began a steady spin as its pilots struggled to keep it stable. It was clearly a vain effort though as it began to rapidly descend. Iraprak finally found his voice.

"EVERYONE GET DOWN!"

The ship crashed belly-down with a great crunching of metal, fortunately without exploding. Iraprak threw himself onto his feet and ran for the nearest barricade, hunkering down next to three of his soldiers. He slapped his omnitool to change to the command frequency.

"This is Lieutenant Iraprak, acting commander of Strength Company! We're pinned at LZ Zero-Three and need immediate close-air support!"

There was a moment of silence over the channel before the RTO on the other end responded. _"Negative, Lieutenant. Any air support we have left is tied up already. You'll have to hold out until they're finished."_

A barrier shattered and one of the soldiers near him crumpled to the ground with a smoldering crater in his throat.

"Negative! We need support now or we're going to lose this beachhead!"

There was a longer pause. As he waited, the hatch on the downed shuttle blew its locks and dropped to the ground. The survivors of the crash hobbled out under fire to join the fight. From his position he could see the more grievously wounded were left in the hold with the medics who were trying to save them.

_"Strength Company, this is Control. Order Company's LZ has been judged indefensible and they are currently en route to your position with armor. Hold your position until they arrive."_

Armor. That meant Ironstalkers. The heavy walkers were the hammer of the Hegemony External Ground Forces. If anything could shatter an ambush, it would be an Ironstalker.

"Understood, we'll hold here!" He then flipped back to his Company frequency. "We've got friendly armor en route! Don't try anything heroic, just hold the line!"

With that, he unfolded his rifle and peeked over the barricade. He could see the damned pyjaks in the windows of the buildings firing wildly down into the square. His eyes picked up an important detail. The aliens armed only with the smaller plasma weapons could hardly be called accurate. The small green bolts splattered against the ground, the barricades, and only sometimes hit a trooper. However it lacked the power to breach the military-grade barriers before they could take cover.

The real threat was the larger blue bolts that poured like hail from select positions. Accuracy was an afterthought when you could merely sweep the weapon onto your target. He clicked his comm.

"Take out their mounted gun positions!"

The spread out fire of his soldiers all shifted into focus. A trooper fired off a Gutpuncher missile launcher which vaporized one of the positions. Iraprak lifted his rifle over the cover and immediately sighted in on an alien gunner that had turned its attention on his trooper with the launcher. A sharp burst from his Terminator rifle sent the little mud-squatter to the ground with fresh holes. He tried to zero in on another target three green bolts hit his barrier and made him duck back behind cover on instinct. A reflexive check of his barrier's integrity made him double take. It hadn't come close to breaking but it took it down by nearly a third.

_"Sir, all gunners have been neutralized."_

"Good. Take out the rest! Barriers will hold for a few shots so take short, accurate bursts only."

_"Acknowledged!"_

Iraprak and his troopers whittled away at their assailants for the next several minutes. Any attempt by the aliens to resume fire from their heavy weapons was punished immediately. Before long the plasma fire petered out as the last aliens either died or ran away in a blind panic.

He panned his gaze over the buildings, trying to catch sight of any stragglers. He finally relaxed when another two minutes went by peacefully. Slightly.

"All platoon leaders, get accountability. Any medics not currently tasked need to go help the injured troopers in the shuttle."

His troopers complied quickly. As he was compiling the list of casualties a comm request beeped in his hear.

_"This is Captain Kendagar of Order Company. Anyone still alive?"_

"This is Lieutenant Iraprak, acting captain for Strength Company. You just missed the party, sir."

_"Actually I think I may have stopped the party before it really began. We intercepted some sort of gravity speeders that were heading for your position."_

Iraprak grimaced at that tidbit of info. So that's what they were planning. They were going to pin them down and wait for fast attack vehicles to arrive and slaughter them.

"You have my gratitude, sir. What's your ETA?"

_"Two minutes. Task out some men to hold this LZ. We're going to move out immediately once I arrive."_

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"General Bas'narah has reported four of the five LZs have been secured and casualties are manageable. The anti-orbital cannon has been unable to lock onto any of the ships thus far."

"Good," Dhekon nodded, "Have our scouts found any sign of alien warships?" The possibility they had warships had been a negligible concern upon first arriving, but now that a single gun had taken out a dreadnought he wasn't going to risk any alien cavalry rolling in to put more holes in his fleet.

"Negative, Admiral. Local space is clear and probes haven't found anything further out in the system. As far as we can tell, there's nothing more than a few asteroid miners."

"Tell them to keep scouting. I want a task force of two cruisers and a frigate wolfpack to board and commandeer those mining ships. If they can't figure out how to pilot it then have one of the cruisers tug each one back. Batarian State Arms may find something useful from them."

"Yes, Admiral."

Dhekon worked his jaw as he stared intently at the tactical display. Ever since he had started the operation seriously he had began to look at everything with a new perspective. As he considered everything they had encountered, he began to realize the glaring discrepancies. For example where was their navy? A species didn't reach for the stars without the tacit understanding that wars would be fought there. Especially a species with such sophisticated weaponry.

That also another thing. This level of weapons technology wasn't in line with their planetary development. The smaller plasma weapons could be waved off but gravity skimmers? Super anti-orbital cannons? That implied a far greater of development that just wasn't seen anywhere else on the planet. Everything impressive about them were their weapons. Why would their weapons outpace their infrastructure to such a colossal degree?

It held implications that Dhekon dreaded to consider. He needed to finish this up and bring this information back to the Hegemony. Hopefully it would occupy their attention enough that it would overshadow his screw-up. His focus was suddenly shattered when an alarm starting screaming from his ship's speakers.

"Captain, I'm getting massive radiological bursts two light seconds out below our current plane! It's growing rapidly!"

Dhekon snapped into action before the Captain could respond. "Reorient the fleet towards the signatures! Hard burn!"

'Hard burn' was simply a turn of phrase as modern eezo ships no longer had RCS thrusters. Instead they applied mass effect fields to shunt ships in the direction they desired. A hard burn was an intense application of mass effect that strained the ship's superstructure and caused inertia to bleed through the dampeners. Everyone on the bridge was forced to lean as the massive dreadnought swung around.

"New ship signatures have appeared from the bursts!"

Dhekon scowled; he was right. The little bastards had a navy. "Composition?!" The Captain of the ship barked.

"Radiation is playing havoc with our sensors! Cleaning it up right no- oh Pillars, fortify me..."

Dhekon slammed a fist against his tactical display. "I need answers, now!"

The sensor officer took another second to reply. "Six ships, Admiral. Two dreadnoughts and...four...super dreadnoughts..."

The admiral rapidly blinked and the Captain seemed lost for words. His tactical display beeped with the new information and he immediately pulled it up.

He felt his soul slip out of his eyes. Two vessels nearly 1 kilometer in length and four that ranged from 1.6 to 1.7 kilometers. They could rival the _Destiny Ascension_ in size. They all had the same smooth, organic design of asari ships too. However instead of the deep blue color he was used to seeing they were painted a bright, arrogant red.

Dreadnoughts. The bastard had dreadnoughts. Not only that, they had brought six of the damn things. The abnormal lack of escorts for such a massive commitment was overshadowed by the fact that he had to bring his fleet to bear against six Pillar-forsaken dreadnoughts!

Dhekon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The situation was bad, terrible even, but it wasn't unsalvageable. They were absolute monsters but they would lack the maneuverability of cruisers and didn't have of their own cruisers to screen them from direct assault. Not to mention the lack of detectable eezo on the ships meant they wouldn't have kinetic barriers. He would have to pick them off one by one while taking minimal casualties per engagement. His fleet would be battered but it would survive.

"Sir, we're getting a direct transmission from the enemy formation. VIs don't detect any malware. It...there's a translation packet included. VIs are decoding it now."

A translation packet? That quickly? No, nevermind that. He had larger problems.

"Put it through as soon as it's finished decoding." He straightened up his uniform and stood straight. He wouldn't be cowed by diminutive little Volus rejects.

A holoscreen appeared before his command throne and Dhekon nearly lost his composure. The creature in front of him wasn't one of the primitives they were conquering. It was a towering, saurian beast with fanged jaws and predatory eyes. Its somewhat feminine voice still came out gruff and demanding.

_"I am Shipmistress Balo'Koham of the Swords of Sanghelios. You are invading the sovereign space of the unggoy, allies of the sangheili. You will surrender immediately or face summary annihilation."_

Dhekon waited two seconds for it continue before responding, making sure to let some of his outrage slip through. "I am Admiral First Class Dhekon Koskedah of the Batarian Hegemony. You are intruding in matters which do not pertain to you. These aliens are now the property of the Hegemony and any actions taken to impede us will be considered an act of war. Leave now or you will join them."

The counter-threat clearly did not sit well with the beast as its eyes narrowed into a lethal glare. _"So be it. We shall render your fleet into shattered hulls and broken bodies."_

The transmission cut off and his sensor officer spoke. "Hostile vessels are moving. Smaller vessels designated UD-01 and UD-02 have broken off and are heading towards the homeworld. SD-01 through 03 and LD-01 are screening them from approach."

Dhekon smirked. They had unwittingly made his job easier. "All ships, direct intercept for UD-01 and 02 on my mark. Microjump above their relative plane and fire once you have a confirmed solution. Stand-by for targeting assignments."

He quickly assigned his ships their target, made all the easier by the fact there were only two ships. After all ships confirmed orders and reoriented, he gave the command.

In the space of a breath they passed by the pointless screening force and appeared over the smaller dreadnoughts. The fleet swung their barrels down as one and opened fire. The salvo was brutal. Dhekon was shocked to see some sort of barrier appear over the eezo-less ships however it scarcely mattered. One of the corvettes had its shields shattered almost instantaneously and was perforated by slugs from over two dozen cruisers and twice that in frigates before the _Indomitable Spear_ struck the killing blow.

The other dreadnought apparently had much better reflexes. It loosed a salvo of plasma shortly after they jumped in and disappeared into a dark blue hole that suddenly ripped open into the space before it just as its shields gave out. The _Unrepentant Conquerer_'s second volley flew through the space it once occupied.

"Casualties?" Dhekon called out.

"One cruiser and three frigates destroyed. Two cruisers damaged but combat capable."

Against two dreadnoughts, those were incredibly low casualties. He just had to repeat it another five times.

"Can anyone explain how the other ship disappeared like that?"

There was silence for a moment before the sensor officer spoke up. "I'm not sure how, Admiral, but one of our probes picked up its signal two light minutes out. It may be their form of FTL."

Just what in the hell was going on in this backwater end of space?

However the hell these krogan rejects did that was irrelevant at the moment though. All that mattered was that they were capable of doing. That meant he had to be able to deliver the killing blow before they could react. More importantly, he had to be able to do enough damage to each ship without taking a fair exchange of damage. The presence of barriers complicated things immensely.

He looked down at his tactical display and immediately started formulating a plan.

* * *

"No slipspace ruptures were detected amongst the enemy, Shipmistress. However scanners picked up traces of their passage over us. They never left real space."

"Impossible," Balo growled. "What you say implies they traveled faster than light in our dimension. The force of such speeds would have vaporized them in an instant!"

The sangheili at the sensor station bowed. "I understand, Shipmistress. I cannot say how it is possible, only that it happened."

The tactical implications were enormous. If they could travel faster than light in-system without slipspace they could perform hit and run attacks with near impunity. She would be left reacting to their every move.

"What of the status of the _Incorrigible Zealot_?"

"They report damage to their thrusters. They can only move at 63% of their maximum output."

The first engagement with these cur had put her on the backfoot. The corvettes were sent to assert orbital supremacy above Balaho and reinforce their defensive lines until the enemy fleet could be dealt with. That had been denied to them now. They would have to deal with the fleet.

"They have the initiative. Inform the_ Incorrigible_ to avoid confrontation and recharge their slipspace capacitors. The destroyers are to take up Defense Formation Triarch around my ship. If they wish to be the aggressors then we will let them impale themselves on our swords!"

The bridge roared in approval.

"Shipmistress! Their fleet has divided itself!"

She turned to look at the tactical display. Indeed, roughly half of the fleet remained in position while the other half had disappeared beyond their sensor range. The AI provided an approximate trajectory towards the system's edge. The cowards had fled and left behind their compatriots. For a fleeting second, Balo felt something approaching respect for those that had stayed behind to fight a hopeless battle.

"Accelerate towards the enemy!" she barked, "Advise the _Intrepid Pilgrim _and _Gale of Sorrow_ to watch our rear, they may decide to jump behind us and attack!"

"As you will it, Shipmaster."

"Charge all plasma lines! I want to flay the flesh from their bones if they so much as brush by us!"

"It will be done!"

"Shipmistress, they are reorienting to face us!"

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the ships suddenly appeared at the right of their formation. The batarians fired a single salvo of their main guns at an angle before correcting to fly exactly parallel and unloaded their broadsides at them. Her gunners did not need to be commanded. Nearly three dozen plasma torpedoes fired from her formation. Balo watched with a vicious glee as they flew at incredible speed towards the insolent vermin.

The batarian corvettes were ignored entirely, too small to be a true threat. The frigate shields shattered from a single torpedo and avoided outright destruction, however a follow-up vaporized them. The single cruiser proved a far tougher target. Its shields shrugged off three torpedoes and the rest were intercepted by frigates.

The broadside fire from the batarians was fierce. Enough so that it was causing a noticeable effect on her own shields. However fire superiority clearly belonged to her fleet. She just needed to whittle those shields down a little and they would be easy pickings.

"Deploy the Seraph and Banshee wings!" she barked. The pilots who had been eagerly awaiting the word were voidborne only a few minutes after the order had been disseminated. They raced through space at top speed. The tactical display blinked with several dozen new contacts. The enemy had deployed their own contingent of fighters. They were present in greater numbers for obvious reasons and Balo knew they could tie her fighters up far from the action.

"Order the pilots to decelerate and force an engagement in range of our pulse lasers."

The pilots obeyed without question. Their velocity dropped sharply while the batarian fighters charged ahead. They clashed in a furious explosion of mass accelerators and plasma guns. The batarian fighters were nimble, Balo would admit as much. They had also engaged at combat speed, leaving the Seraphs to play catch-up. However they were now in range of her batteries.

"Purge them," she said simply.

Bright, violet lasers lanced through the void and scoured fighters from existence. Balo was surprised to see their shields remain completely inactive against the attack. To their credit, the batarians quickly realized the massive disadvantage they were in and immediately fled out of her weapons range with the Banshee Interceptors hot on their tails. The Seraphs took a moment consolidate before following after them.

Suddenly the tactical display chimed urgently. The batarians she thought had fled were now behind and to the left of the_ Intrepid Pilgrim_. They remained at an extreme range, barely brushing the edge of her fleet's weapons range. The first group was bait, Balo realized.

The destroyer barely began turning to face the new threat before the group fired as one on it. Missiles were fired alongside the slugs, many of which were immediately shot down by pulse lasers. Those that made it through hit the shield and then exploded into something that their sensors interpreted as violently shifting gravity fields. The shield flared brightly and the _Pilgrim _responded with spears of plasma. The _Gale of Sorrow _ceased its advance and began to turn its body to lob plasma torpedoes from the other side of the formation.

The _Pilgrim_'s shield held against barrage but was suffering noticeable degradation. Suddenly, by exceptional skill or sheer fortune, two slugs from the batarian cruiser slammed into the plasma emitter as it began to prime itself for another shot and the shield was partially lowered. The failsafes that normally would have kept the plasma build-up from backfiring must have malfunctioned, as a brilliant explosion tore a gaping hole in the destroyer's bow.

Almost immediately a swarm of the tiny batarian corvettes shot towards the injured destroyer. Pulse lasers stabbed out at the incoming hostiles, accompanied by a fusillade from the plasma cannons. Multiple contacts blinked out of existence however it wasn't enough to completely stop the tide.

"Change focus to Hostile Group 2!" Balo commanded. Her crew followed her order without hesitation and the rest of her ships swung around to focus on the second group. Another round of plasma torpedoes was fired. The rest of the task force's pulse laser batteries joined with the damaged destroyer's however it proved fruitless as the corvettes clustered around the ship's wound and attached themselves to the hull. Meanwhile he rest of the batarian fleet busied itself with eliminating the ship's weapons, sustaining more losses in process.

Moments later one of her crewman cried out. "The _Intrepid Pilgrim_ is being boarded!"

Another followed up. "Hostile Group 1 is now focusing on the _Gale of Sorrow_!"

They were attempting to divide her attention, trying confuse her to make her flounder and hesitate.

Balo snarled and immediately called out commands. "Advance on Hostile Group 2! We will force them to retreat!"

Group 1 had sustained noticeable casualties when it first engaged and couldn't deliver the same punishing strike that Group 2 could. Group 2 was being whittled away now and the full might of her ships would decimate them, forcing them to pull back. From there she could change focus back onto Group 1. Trying to switch now would only give the batarians precious time to inflict more damage.

There was another, more important reason to focus on Group 2 however. Her eyes zeroed in on the cruiser that her system had tagged as the flagship. The communication link from initial contact had made it simple to single out where the admiral held his command. She would decapitate their leadership and then purge these accursed pirates from this system.

"Ready the plasma lance! I want that cruiser reduced to dust as soon we come within range."

Her ships charged forward, firing as they advanced. The battered destroyer _Intrepid Pilgrim_ kept pace, even with degraded firepower and while fending off the surprisingly cunning boarders.

* * *

"More hostile forces reinforcing up front!"

"My fuel tank's at half, we gotta get moving!"

"Squad Three has gone dark! We may have hostiles on our rear soon!"

"Listen up!" the squad leader called out. "They're stonewalling us, we're gonna redirect! Set proxy mines and head toward's Squad Three's last position! We're gonna catch their flanking force off guard and strike through fast and hard! Get to it!"

His squad moved without hesitation. A series of proxy mines were set on the walls and they immediately moved back through the hallway and took a left into the door Squad Three had entered. The would pause for only a second to plant another mine, intended to slow down pursuit.

The squad leader felt the pressure building as they nearly ran through the hall. Every second counted in a boarding operation and getting pinned down was as good as a death sentence. They were tasked with finding the reactor in order to plant detpacks but they were being delayed by the size of the ship and the abnormal layout. Eezo-capable dreadnoughts had their top decks in the bow and their lower decks in the stern. This common design necessity also made it fairly easy to find critical points.

That wasn't the case with this monstrosity though. Everything about its layout was alien in the truest sense and the translation software disseminated to them only interpreted the spoken language. The holographic markings projected from the wall were incomprehensible to them. The recon drones sent ahead were only marginally helpful before they were destroyed or reached the end of their relatively short lifespan.

Navigational issues aside, there was another, deadlier roadblock to their mission.

Five towering aliens rounded the corner in front of them and almost immediately opened fire. Super-heated plasma bolts tore into their point man who barely managed to lift his rifle before he crumpled to the ground. The rest of the squad immediately took cover and returned fire; two more dropped dead from the coordinated plasma fire. The trooper holding the flamethrower let loose, sending a jet of flame that engulfed them. The flames that could normally cook someone behind their barrier seemed to do nothing except make them seek cover

"Throw a grenade in there and push through!" he shouted. Two of his troopers auto-fabricated a grenade from their omnitool and threw them both. Two explosions rang out and one of the aliens was thrown out of its cover. It didn't get back up.

"Move!"

They charged around the corner. The lead troopers, one with a rifle and the other with a shotgun, opened fire on the retreating hostiles. He heard the death screams of two aliens before a familiar bright blue ball suddenly flew out and stuck itself to a helmet.

"Grenade!" someone screamed and they all scrambled to get away from the trooper who was struggling to get her helmet off. She wasn't nearly fast enough and the explosive went off, killing three of his men and throwing him onto his back.

Someone pulled him back onto his feet as he was trying to catch his breath. "Keep _*ugh*_ pushing!" he managed to cough out.

The troopers who still had their bearings moved ahead, firing on the surviving aliens. He hobbled after them, steadily regaining his steam. The last of the flanking force was finally killed and they continued progressing, now much weaker than before. If only they could find this Pillar-forsaken-!

_"All squads, all squads, we've found the reactor! Transmitting location! Heavy resistance encountered!"_

Their omnitools all blinked with the updated location. There was no need for a command. The squad immediately started moving in that general direction. They somehow managed to avoid another firefight as they progressed. It became apparent why when they arrived.

A full scale battle was being fought on the catwalks and landings that surrounded the massive, glowing machine sitting in the center. Mass accelerator rifles barked and plasma stitched through the air. The squad leader could already see some troopers planting detpacks on the machine while their teammates furiously defended them.

He spotted a group of batarians a hair's breadth from being overwhelmed on a landing one level below them and made a decision.

"Move on that position!" he shouted while pointing two fingers. They charged down the pathway and caught the large aliens in a pincer. It wasn't quite the deathblow they were hoping for. One half of the alien squad spun around to return fire and tore through another two of his men before they could establish fire superiority. The aliens fought back without flinching, even as they were torn down by fire both sides.

Now down to just four men, including the the squad leader, they ran down to link up with their allies and assisted with holding back the aliens on their other side.

"Who's in charge here?!" he demanded. Another Squad Leader 1st Class announced himself without moving from his kneeling position. "That would be me," he said gruffly as he continued to lay down fire.

"Are the detpacks armed?" The first leader asked his peer.

The other squad leader and spoke brusquely, "They're ready to detonate but every time we try to to exfil we get pushed back by alien reinforcements. They've whittled us down from two full squads to this." He jerked his head vaguely at his group of troopers that would just barely constitute a squad.

The squad leader grinded his teeth as the reality of the situation became apparent. He looked back up at the door they had entered through in time to spot another group of aliens entering. They were pinned. They could detonate the explosives now and die or they could try to push back out to the frigates and get grinded down one by one. He knew this day would come eventually. A career as a boarder was typically a short one. The fact that he had lived even to this point was a miracle.

"Have the other units planted their detpacks?"

He cast his gaze across the cavernous room as he asked that. The scattered fighting was localizing around isolated groups of batarians defending their positions. They were all in the same situation.

"We've planted more than double the required amount for a dreadnought core so we should be able to turn this ship into scrap. We just need to get the damnation out of here before they can try to disarm them."

He nodded.

"Good."

He knew none of the other batarians would dare detonate the explosives while they were at risk of dying alongside their target. He was a patriot though and he knew that the destruction of this ship would be important for Hegemony victory. So he didn't even hesitate to contact his commander still aboard one of the frigates via his omnitool.

_'Charges set. Cannot exfil. Remote detonation required.'_

The response arrived shortly.

_'Understood. You will be remembered. For the Hegemony.'_

"For the Hegemony," the squad leader whispered.

* * *

Balo watched with satisfaction as the corvettes that had adhered to the hull of the _Intrepid Pilgrim_ suddenly detached and retreated with great haste. The boarders had apparently been repulsed. The fools thought they could commandeer a sangheili ship and had been chastened for their presumption. Now they would do the same to their fleet of-

The _Intrepid Pilgrim_ exploded. Balo stared at the tactical display in disbelief as the bulbous head of the destroyer shattered in a massive flare of fusion energy, leaving the tail spinning haphazardly in the debris. The bridge was silent for a moment.

A hot lead ball of fury welled up in her chest. The humiliation of losing a ship to these- these..._rodents..._it was almost too much to bear!

She roared loudly and her anger was echoed by the crew.

"These pirates have been allowed to live for too long!" she shouted. "Erase them from existence!"

Her ships continued to charge ahead, unleashing every weapon the had at their disposal. It seemed the batarians were now satisfied with the exchange however and began turning. They were going to jump.

One of her gunners called out, "We're entering range of the enemy cruiser! Firing solution acquired!"

"Fire now!"

A bright spear shot through the void directly at the cruiser. It impacted just before the rest of the fleet jumped out. The beam of plasma was enough to overcome the barrier and shear through the ship behind it. Both halves of the batarian fleet escaped leaving behind only wreckage and a few straggling fighters.

Balo took a moment to cool her temper and relish in the slaying of the batarian admiral before turning to her crew.

"Are there any survivors from the _Intrepid Pilgrim_?"

"We are receiving hails from escape pods, Shipmistress. They are also claiming that there are survivors sealed within the surviving portion of the destroyer however their air quality is rapidly deteriorating."

Normal procedure was to eliminate the enemy before recovering survivors however it was abundantly clear she couldn't force a ship-to-ship engagement.

"Deploy the Phantoms to recover them."

"Yes, Shipmistress. We are also detecting unknown beacons among the wreckage of the enemy."

Balo did not take even a moment to decide their fate. "No quarter. They were given the opportunity to surrender per the Arbiter's orders. They have waived the right to beg for mercy."

"By your will, Shipmaster."

As they got to work on their orders, Balo perused the casualty reports. Despite the shameful loss of a destroyer the batarians had undoubtedly came out as the losers in that battle. They may be able to cripple or destroy another of her ships if they still had their admiral. However even then they would be reduced to a pale shadow of what they once were.

Even so she couldn't assume their species wasn't spiteful enough to do that. The sangheili needed every ship they had and to lose another against rabble like this would dishonor her beyond redemption. She had to keep them from engaging on their terms again to have the best chance of preventing another loss.

It seemed impossible. They had the freedom to maneuver as they wanted and she couldn't provide reinforcements to Balaho until-

Her line of thought stopped dead. The decision to delay the landing of reinforcements had only been made because the enemy was at full strength. That was no longer the case. Her destroyers should be enough to hold off the leaderless remnants as she took her battlecruiser into the atmosphere. Charging the planet is also the only thing that could force the batarians to reengage.

"Recall our fighter wings. Redirect the Phantoms to recover the survivors in the remains of the _Pilgrim_ only. Inform those in the escape pods to deactivate their beacons and await our return. We are going to put an end to this."

* * *

Admiral Koskedah fought hard to keep his composure in front of the cruiser's crew. He had transferred his flag from the _Unrepentant Conqueror_ prior to engagement knowing his ship was one of two very obvious targets. It had paid off very well for him. He had survived the engagement but his fleet was now in tatters.

They had destroyed one of the super dreadnoughts but out of the three dreadnoughts, ninety-seven cruisers, twenty-four destroyers, and uncountable frigates he had brought maybe a third of that remained. It was the most catastrophic loss in the Hegemony's spacefaring history. He didn't have the manpower to survive another engagement. Whoever these Swords of Sangheilios were they represented a massive threat to his people.

His priorities had changed. Fleet policy was clear. In the event of a Rachni-level threat the forces in contact were to retreat to Hegemony space and alert the Executive Board. First he needed to recover as many batarians as possible. That wasn't a part of the policy but the Hegemony would need every man and woman who could hold a gun against this new threat.

He quickly opened a connection to Dranith. She seemed almost as harried as he did, likely being kept abreast to what was happening by the ship's captain.

"General, the situation has changed. We have to extract your forces and pull back to the Hegemony. Have they taken the gun yet?"

She shook her head, _"No, Admiral. They've encountered heavy resistance around the gun. The aliens on the ground aren't much in a fight but there's hordes of the little bastards throwing themselves into it."_

Dhekon slammed his fist against his console, "We can't pull them out while that gun is still active, General! What will take to get them in there to deactivate the gun?"

Dranith muted their connection and spoke on her omnitool. The minutes ticked by and his anxiety steadily grew. Interstellar communication could be a nightmare and only the expendable comm buoys they'd deployed near the planet and beyond made it even somewhat practical. Finally the batarian general finished her conversation and unmuted the connection.

_"I've redirected armor and airborne assets. They're going to form a spearhead to punch through the line and rush the gun. They're going to be cut off and the rest of my troopers will be without support but given the plan that shouldn't be a problem."_

"Inform me the second they've deactivated the gun and make sure they're ready to evac on a moment's notice," he said before unceremoniously cutting the link. He rubbed his ridges in consternation. This entire operation was a disaster. He needed to get as many men and ships back to the Hegemony so they could prepare for war. His standing was now a secondary concern. Given the threat they now faced he doubted they would be all too eager to dispose of an officer with experience against them. At worst he could expect to live a month in the slave caste before they pulled him back up to leverage his knowledge.

"Admiral!"

The weight on his shoulders seemed to double. He knew whatever was happening couldn't be good. "Speak."

"The enemy ships departed through those portals and appeared above the homeworld!"

* * *

**A/N:** **I'm sure I'm gonna see some reviews about kinetic barriers vs energy shields. I'll be straight with you all, I can't be assed to do the research to make this as accurate as possible but I do have my reasoning. Energy shields disperse or repel the energy of a projectile while kinetic barriers act as a wall that takes the full brunt of impacts and the energies that are imparted. Barriers aren't necessarily weaker per se but I'd assume they deplete faster than an energy shield simply because they're outright absorbing everything that impacts them.**

**A common aspect of kinetic barriers I see in these fics is that the heat of a plasma round bleeds through the barrier and burns the person/armor underneath. This may be somewhat inaccurate because the kinetic barrier is essentially a wall. I'm sure any thermal energy remaining _after_ the impact would go through (and dulled further by any ablative plating) but the immediate thermal energy delivered on impact would be blocked as the mass of the projectile triggers the barrier which - as I stated before - is basically a wall. So the majority of the thermal energy would be blocked however it would deplete the barrier much quicker in return.**

**I'm not a scientist nor did I spend much time researching the validity of my reasoning but it's something I feel comfortable working off of and I feel it helps to level the playing field a little bit.**


End file.
